


heat of her breath in my mouth (i’m alive)

by ElasticElla



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 12:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20724452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Bela breaks easy.She’s known for ten years that she was destined for hell, there’s no reason to make her stay unpleasant.





	heat of her breath in my mouth (i’m alive)

**Author's Note:**

> title from hozier’s angel of small death & the codeine scene

Bela breaks easy. 

She’s known for ten years that she was destined for hell, there’s no reason to make her stay unpleasant. The demon sent to torture her is amused, doesn’t even touch the torture implements once before helping her down. The demon teaches her many things- how to apply pain precisely, how to trap a mind, how to break a soul- the sheer pleasure of it all. Bela wonders if all new demons regularly shag their mentors; there’s a nice sexual liberation she supposes, in being inherently demonic. 

Finally, the demon sneaks her out of hell, brings her up to the shredded pieces of her own body. It’s an overcast afternoon, angry gray clouds ready to break, but Bela’s no longer a mere human. It’s easy work, done before the skies can darken further. 

“My name is Meg,” she says as Bela finishes bringing the pieces together to become whole. Bela feels at home in her own skin, and looking at Meg now, her fingers itch to delve back inside that body again, with renewed purpose. 

Bela smiles easy, “So you do have a name.” 

Meg shrugs, “Names have power, and I have enemies, so do you now.” 

…she does not like the sound of that. “Excuse me?” 

Meg grins, “I brought you out of hell early darling. Young demons like you are supposed to suffer a decade longer before breathing fresh air. You don’t even have any scars upon your soul.” 

Bela supposes she can work with this, has made better of worse. “I want names, and truffle fries. Gods I’ve missed real food.” 

Meg pats her cheek, “So demanding darling, a bit more appreciation to your savior.”

There’s a crack of thunder, and Bela tips her head back as the raindrops splash down. She’s drenched in a blink, feels so very impossibly alive. Meg’s smiling faintly, and her body’s becoming annoyingly cold already, so Bela leans in, kissing the resurrection off her lips.


End file.
